I've got to get arrested to keep you interestedI should have known that I can't change the world by staring at itMy arms have little feeling from lifting to the ceilingA recipe for stealing hearts I have no power in healing

And I suppose the Jesus pose is tired and superficial, lameI wrote a song, I'm moving on, I'm praying you can do the same

I'm changing my direction making a correctionOh my god, I've dodged the unexpected bullets behind accolades andShake your head of leisure get your head and body into seizureAnd battle with whoever hides assault disguised as dancing

This rotting phase of hands that raise, bumping heads that pass each otherIt's a boring phase, so part the wave and drop the dead as driftwood surfer

Another song, it all went wrong, the radio refused to play itI'm not afraid to serenade, the f word saved and sucked the life from me